"Somehow word got out," Xichen mutters, standing at Wangji's bedside. He looks so forlorn that it makes Wangji feel worse—which he is pretty sure is not good for his condition. But it's been one week, and there have been no improvements anyway... if anything, it's getting worse.
Of course word was going to get out.
Wangji doesn't realise he's clenching his jaw until that hurts too. Sitting against the headboard of his bed, he turns calmly to face his front, "Rumours travel. It's the way of the world."
"Whoever is selling Lan Clan confidential information should be caught and punished immediately," Xichen says coolly. He bows to Wangji, from where the clan leader sits under his covers. "Your Excellency.... let me handle it."
"No need."
Wangji already knows it won't make him feel any better.
"I'm heading that way."
"Well... I'll get going then."
"I'm heading that way."
"That way."
"I'll get going then."
"WEI YING!"
The screams.
"WEI YING!"
•••
Lan Zhan.
Ah Xian can hardly breathe—die? What does that even mean?
Lan Zhan.
Die? Why? Why would Lan Zhan die? How could he die? He's basically immortal. He's the last person on earth who would be dying this early. He couldn't even die by sword, because his swordsmanship is nearly incomparable—nearly.
There was only one who ever came close to beating the great Hanguang Jun.
Lan Zhan.
How could he die? That's definitely fake news. Totally and utterly and completely..... right?
Right?
•••
The Gusu Lan Clan has checked on everything. All the clan leaders have now been alerted to the Chief Cultivator's sickness, which came out of nowhere and seems to have no cure. There are multiple symptoms and telltale signs which seem to imply that it's a curable condition.... but nothing they have tried on it has ever proven successful. Not cultivation, not medication, not Songs of Clarity, not verbal therapy. (Luckily, the illness is not contagious.)
Xichen has come to the conclusion that it must be a health trap of ancient times; like the deadly, almost-incurable health traps that take place in old fables, due to the pact-making of naive people. Mostly, the pact-making is a bargain for your soul—one would wish for immortality, and pay a price to the devil. One would wish for fame, and pay a price to the deities. One would wish for love, and pay a price to their lover...
The Chief Cultivator has fallen gravely will without warning, without cure. Wangji is aware now that this is not a small deal.
Actually, it's a very, very big deal.
•••
Ah Xian has been sitting at Mingyu's family dinner table for only ten minutes—chattering and laughing with the family parents—when a knock sounds at the front door. The dad leaves the table to open it, coldly greeting a man in rough clothing and passing some coin around.
The door slams shut.
Mingyu's dad returns to the table with a scroll. He slips back into his seat and reads it out loud, "Hm... Main Headline: an unidentifiable health condition has taken hold of His Excellency, Chief Cultivator and Lan Clan Leader Hanguang Jun and is gravely affecting him. It's been at least three or four weeks since his immune system has weakened, and he has been mostly bedridden. Although sometimes he plays his Qin. Ha— these noblemen and their Qin-playing. Even when they're sick? Multiple healers, seers and mages of all sorts of magic tricks have visited Cloud Recesses, but it seems like a cure has yet to be found. As I am writing this, His Excellency Hanguang Jun lies in bed, pale-faced, asleep." Mingyu's dad tosses the read scroll onto the floor, shaking his head. "Well, there she is. Karma at her worst."
"What karma? Hanguang Jun is a good man! You know... I heard that he's the bravest, best in sword-fighting, best in music-playing, most beautiful, unmatchable man on earth!"
"Bah! As if!"
"Hey—Cloud Recesses... is that where the Lan Clan is?"
"You're right son, that is where the Lan Clan is."
"Brother Zhu said he went to a Cloud Recesses before... hey, maybe it's the same one! Maybe Brother Zhu went to Cloud Recesses, and saw the Lan Clan! Maybe-maybe he even saw Hanguang Jun, His Excellency! Brother Zhu—
did you? Did you see the Chief Cultivator Hanguang Jun, His Excellency?"
"Did you really?"
Silence.
Ah Xian doesn't actually register any of the table conversation following the news-reading until Mingyu grabs his arm and shakes him awake. Ah Xian blinks. He turns to face the little boy, who stares funnily at him.
"Hey, idiot. Did you hear me?" Mingyu asks. His eyes are larger than saucers and shine like dark marbles. "Have you seen Hanguang Jun before?"
"Mingyu, that is no way to call your elders!" His mom exclaims, appalled. "Idiot? Say sorry right now."
"But mom..."
"Actually, uh, Ms. Zhang, it's okay. I'm the one who said he could call me that—so, I'm cool with it," Ah Xian grins over at her, but, suddenly, it feels strained. Suddenly, it feels painful.
Even just sitting here feels painful.
"Mr. Zhu, you should eat before it gets cold," someone says in Ah Xian's left ear.
"Dad, can we have omelette tomorrow? I'm craving some onion omelette this week."
Someone else replies, and then the conversation starts up. Banter about the night, about curfew, about music, about garbage, about stupid things, about the sky, about the earth, about blue, about orange, about red, about nuisances, about seedlings of thought, about things that don't matter, redundant things—
"Excuse me," Ah Xian says, and all attention snaps to him. His throat is as dry as desert sands. "Excuse me... I.... I am so sorry to pick up and leave like this, but there is somewhere I have to be. So, if you would excuse me."
He stands up and bows to the parents. He grabs his flute and his money pouch and is already making for the door of the house.
"Hey, where are you going?" Mingyu calls. "Brother Zhu!"
"Mister, where..." Liai trails off.
"Have a good night. All of you," Ah Xian doesn't see their faces as he looks at them. He bows. He waves. He closes the door behind him.
He walks the cold night.
He enters the inn.
He packs his belongings.
"Well, I'll get going then," Ah Xian grins, even though it feels like he's about to fall apart.
He can't stay now. He made a promise: that he would leave when this was all over. Go far away from Lan Zhan and never return. He repeated those words himself.... and Wei Wuxian may be player of crafty tricks, he may have left his sword-days behind him, he may have uncountable enemies and a bitter reputation—but he is a man of his word.
He'll keep his promise.
Even if it breaks his heart.
YOU ARE READING
this changes everything. ⟲ wangxian
Fanfiction"Wangji... Rule 2982-" Lan Wangji stiffens. "-you know you can't be with him. It's been many moons for you two now, so I can predict you'll feel... energised. Obviously, your health will improve. And that's what we want; that's what's good for you...
